


Hugs and Kisses

by BobbieZ



Category: Xi You Ji | Journey to the West - Wu Cheng'en
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobbieZ/pseuds/BobbieZ
Summary: Monkeys are physically affectionate creatures, and Wukong is no different.
Relationships: Sūn Wùkōng | Monkey King/Táng Sānzàng | Tripitaka
Comments: 9
Kudos: 60





	1. What if?

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know why, but I decided I wanted to do a chapter book. I'm gonna try to update on a consistent weekly basis. For the most part, the chapters are loosely connected and can be read as oneshots.

If Xuanzang had learned anything from Wukong's stories of his life as the Handsome Monkey King, it was that Monkeys valued touch and physical connection. From the way he described it, it was as if touch was a language of its own, one used only by the monkeys of the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit. And there was this unspoken rule that if a monkey was touched by no one in the tribe, they were essentially an outcast. He had also been told that when a monkey went too long without touch, they would become volatile and crazed.

So maybe that would explain Wukong's constant aggression. When Xuanzang had the boldness to ask, the macaque only laughed in his face before going to bed.

He knew it was probably best to leave the idea alone, but Sanzang couldn't help but wonder: Would Wukong act gentler if he was shown more physical affection? Well, Xuanzang would just have to test this.

If Sanzang were to do this, though, he'd need to start small. It'd need to be things that could go unquestioned.

"Master, here's your food." Wukong held a bowl filled with mostly fruits and some vegetables, gesturing it towards the monk. He was usually the one to bring him his meals, and Xuanzang would always voice his thanks. This time, though, he placed a hand on the monkey's shoulder as he said his thanks.

"No problem," Wukong replied, glancing at his master's hand.

The simple touch seemed to have the effect Xuanzang was looking for, and if he hadn't been paying close attention, he would have missed the slight twitch of the Monkey King's ear. To ensure that it wasn't caused by some far off noise the priest couldn't hear, he continued, praising the King for his efforts.

"I mean it. A lot of what's in this bowl isn't from this area, and I'm grateful that you'd go to such lengths for me."

There it was again. The ear twitched again, and this time it was more noticeable.

For the next few days, Sanzang would always touch Wukong on the arm or shoulder when given his meals, and every time the monkey's ears would twitch at the small contact. One day the Tang monk intentionally didn't touch the monkey when he thanked him for his meal, and Wukong's reaction caught him off guard.

"Is something wrong?" he questioned when saw the look of disappointment on the Monkey King's face.

"It's nothing," he lied, trying to hide his sadness.

The two stood there for an awkward moment, and Sanzang began to feel guilty for causing his disciple's disappointment. He hadn't expected him to get so attached to his touch.

"Well, um, I'm gonna go," Wukong said, turning to leave, his tail hanging slightly lower than before.

"Wukong, wait."

When Wukong turned back around, there was suddenly a hand in his hair, catching him by surprise.

"Thank you," Sanzang said, ruffling his hair.

"For what?" he questioned, trying to hide any signs of enjoyment.

"For always being there to protect me and make sure I'm comfortable."

"You're welcome."

Sanzang removed his fingers from Wukong's hair, and the same look of disappointment reappeared on his face, if only for a moment. Sanzang almost couldn't stop himself from chuckling at the Monkey King's reaction.

"Would you like to have lunch with me?"

The Monkey King immediately perked up at the question. "Uh, sure."


	2. Greedy Monkey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzang is more comfortable with touching Wukong, but it's not enough for the monkey.

For the following weeks, the master and eldest disciple would have meals together, always sitting close to each other. The two had grown closer, and Sanzang became more comfortable with expressing physical affection, though it was no longer with the initial question that had started this new dynamic in mind. After seeing that look of sadness in the Great Sage’s eyes, the thought of toying with his emotions like that disgusted Tang monk. It was an incredibly immoral and slightly abusive thing to do. Sanzang hated himself for ever doing such a wicked thing, and he prayed every night for forgiveness.

As was stated before, Sanzang had become much more comfortable with expressing physical affection with the Monkey King. He would touch the King whenever possible and praise him when he did something the monk liked or noticed improvement in his character. But Wukong wanted more. He wanted more of his master’s gentle caresses and praise, but he would never say so, for he was too damn stubborn. Instead, he would go out of his way to earn his master’s affection.

One time when Wukong was sent to scout ahead for trouble, he decided to intentionally dirty his hair. He took any small twig or pebble he could find and planted it in his hair trying to make it as tangled as possible. He had done this in hopes of getting his master to pick through it for him.

“Ah, Wukong, there you are. Anything to...” Sanzang’s words died in his mouth upon seeing the awful mess that was his first disciples hair. There were twigs sticking out from everywhere, and a pebble seemed to fall out with each step. How had it managed to get so messy if he’d only been gone 20 minutes or so.

“Is something wrong?” Wukong asked, pretending he didn’t know the terrible state his hair was in. a head didn’t look like it had been struck by a hurricane.

“Wukong, what happened? Why does your hair look like that?” the Tang monk questioned, a hand reaching up to pull out one of the twigs.

“Look like what?”

Sanzang walked over to their bag of supplies and pulled a simple hand mirror, a gift from the last village they had stayed at. He held the mirror up to the disciples face. The image Wukong saw left him speechless. He had intended for his hair to look sloppy, yes, but he didn’t expect it to look _this_ bad. It looked like it had been ravaged by a hurricane and then had a porcupine dragged through it at least 50 times.

“Oh my gods,” was the only thing he could think to say.

“Come, I’ll clean it for you,” Sanzang said, pulling the monkey to a nearby rock big enough to sit on.

“That’s not necessary, master. I can clean it myself,” Wukong half-heartedly argued.

“I insist. Besides, if you were to do it, you would likely not get everything out. Now, sit.”

“I suppose you make a point.” He sat down, more than happy to lose the argument.

The grooming was rather rough and painful at the start. The Monkey King couldn’t help flinching or flicking his tail. His hair was tugged and pulled in every direction, occasionally some of it breaking off with a leaving twig. He would have regretted what he’d done to his hair if it didn’t get him the touch he craved so much.

When most of the rubbish had been removed, the grooming actually became enjoyable. Sanzang was gently combing through the monkey’s hair with a comb he didn’t know the monk had. He would have questioned why the monk had such a thing if he weren’t feeling so soothed and relaxed. He loved feeling Sanzang’s fingers move through his scalp. 

The gentle massaging reminded the demon of his home on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit. The days where he picked bugs and twigs out of his fellow primate’s fur, and they’d do the same for him. They'd talk and joke about whatever was on their minds over the calming roar of the waterfall.

 _I never want this to end_ , he thought to himself.

“So...” the Tang monk started, removing his fingers from the monkey’s head. “Why was your hair such a mess?”

Wukong froze. He needed to come up with an excuse.

“Um, I-I uh, got into a scuffle with some demon,” he stuttered out.

“Oh? Then how come your clothes don’t look as disheveled?”

“It was a...” Wukong paused for a moment. “A small demon trying to play a trick on me. He kept putting twigs in my hair,” he finished, not sounding very sure of himself.

There was a moment of silence before a sigh could be heard from Sanzang.

“Monkey, I do not know why you feel the need to lie to me, but if the truth is too embarrassing, I will not pry. Just know, if you want something from me, you only need to ask.”

The Great Sage sat there feeling silly that his master had seen through his poorly constructed lie. He also felt a little nervous. There was so much he wanted to ask from the monk, but he knew some of those requests were too personal. For now, a hug wouldn’t hurt.

“Then, can I have a hug?” he asked turning towards the monk.

Sanzang smiled softly. "Of course,” he said, happy to fulfill the request.

The hug didn’t last as long as Wukong wanted it to, but it was enough. It had to be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the encouragement! It makes me really happy to know people like what I've written. This chapter was originally going to end differently, but I felt like it didn't make sense. If you guys wanna see it, I can post it as it's own separate thing.


	3. A Night Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzang spends a night with the stars and regrets.

If there was anything Sanzang loved most about the journey West, it was always being surrounded by nature. Seeing the colorful natural world always left him feeling serene. In Tang, when he wasn’t busy being a devout monk, Sanzang would take trips to the nearby forest and paint the lively scenery. It gave him a chance to reflect and think about all the good in his life.

But now? He always had to keep moving, so he could get closer to retrieving the holy scriptures. He barely had a chance to fully take in the beauty that surrounded him, at least during the day. At night, he could appreciate the glimmering stars in the night sky and the picturesque moments that came during the dark, like the one before him now.

Sanzang was sitting in an open feel, slightly separated from the rest of the group. There was a gentle breeze blowing, rustling the tall blades of grass. Fireflies danced about, their glow mimicking the stars hanging in the sky. The crescent-shaped moon smiling down. It was all so perfect.

“Master, dinner is almost ready,” a voice called not too far from behind the monk. Sanzang turned to see his second disciple, Bajie.

“Thank you, Bajie.” When he didn’t hear the sound of footsteps leaving, he turned his attention back to the pilgrim. The pig was looking up at the sky. “Is something bothering you?”

“Just thinking about Goddess Chang’e.” 

Sanzang hummed in response. He knew about the incident that led to his banishment from Heaven. The former celestial had attempted to seduce the moon Goddess after getting drunk at a party.

“Do you ever regret what you did, Wuneng?”

“All the time, master. Though not for the reason you think. My punishment was well deserved. I should not have made such advancements towards the lunar Goddess, and that is what I regret most.” The Pig demon paused, reflecting for a moment. “Despite how much I wish to change, I never seem to be able to restrain myself.”

The two stayed there looking up at the starry sky, the mood somewhat heavy, before Wukong approached, a bowl of rice in each hand.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Sanzang was about to respond, but Bajie spoke before he could.

“You’re fine big brother. I was just about to leave anyway,” he said walking back to the campfire and Wujing.

The Great Sage stood there for a moment looking at the leaving pig, before turning back to his master.

“Are you sure I wasn’t interrupting anything? I could have come back later.”

“No, you’re all right, Monkey.”

“Can I ask what you two were talking about?” Wukong asked, handing his master a bowl and sitting down. 

“Just talking about the stars and moon.” It wasn’t technically a lie. They had been talking about Chang’e who was the moon Goddess.

Sanzang looked at his first disciple. His conversation with Bajie had him thinking about regrets, and he wondered if the monkey felt remorse over some of the things he did before their journey.

“Do you ever regret what you did in Heaven, Wukong?” 

The monkey in question paused his eating to glance at his master.

“You can answer truthfully. I won’t judge.”

“Quite frankly, I don’t. I would gladly do it all over again.” He turned away from his master and mumbled something the monk couldn’t hear.

Wukong’s answer didn’t surprise the monk. He had expected him to say something along those lines. He was going to ask about the last part of his reply, but the monkey cut him off with a question of his own.

“Do you have any regrets, master?”

Sanzang thought for a moment.

“I have a few, just like any man. But, I try not to dwell on them for long because I know that with each mistake came a lesson I would not have learned otherwise. Additionally if I had not made those decisions, I might not have gotten the chance to go West... or the chance to meet you.”

The monk suddenly felt embarrassed by the last part of his statement. He didn’t even know why had said it. Where had that thought even come from?!

He felt his face grow hot when he saw the look on his disciples face. Wukong looked surprised at his master’s words, and when he strained his eyes, Sanzang thought he saw some red on the monkey’s face as well.

Just as he was about to offer an explanation for his words, Wukong asked if they could hold hands.

“What?” he asked, his face growing hotter by the second.

“Can I hold your hand?” the Great Sage asked again, holding his hand out. A slight waiver in his voice revealed he felt just as nervous as the monk before him.

“Y-yeah,” Sanzang stuttered out. He intertwined his fingers with Wukong’s, the action making his heart beat faster. 

When his heart finally calmed enough for him to think clearly, the Tang monk’s mind drifted back to the topic of regrets. After doing some reflecting, he decided that he had no regrets. Not when all his decisions lead to someone as special as Wukong.


	4. Rainy Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sudden rain forces the group to relocate their camp in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There won't be an update next week cause I'll be working on a Lego Monkie Kid oneshot. Thought I'd let you guys know. Hope you enjoy this longer chapter.

The clouds hung in the sky, grey, fat, and foreboding. For the past several hours, the clouds loomed over the four pilgrims, always holding the threat of rain. It wasn’t until the weary travelers began to settle for the night that the rain began to descend. It seemingly came from nowhere. One moment things were fine, the next the fire had been doused and their clothes were soaked. The small camp went into chaos. The eldest disciple went off in search of a nearby cave, while the younger disciples and master hurriedly packed their supplies

The group waited for the return of the eldest disciple under the shade of the trees. All were anxious to get out of the rain save for the youngest disciple, Wujing. He always welcomed the rain. It helped to hydrate his skin.

“Why’d it have to start raining?!” Bajie complained. “It couldn’t have rained when we were near those 3 other caves?! I swear Yu Shi did this on purpose!”

“Bajie, I know this isn’t a very favorable circumstance, but let’s just be patient and wait for Wukong to come back.” Sanzang suggested, shivering. He had started shivering more than 20 minutes ago but kept dismissing his disciples’ worries over him.

“We’ve been waiting for nearly 30 minutes, master. We’re completely soaked and so are all of our supplies. If that monkey takes any longer, I’ll- ”

There was a rustle in the trees shutting the pig demon up immediately. The group waited tentatively, wanting to see if it was Wukong or a demon out for their master.

Then, dropping dramatically out of a tree was the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. 

“You’ll what?” he inquired, grinning. His voice was threatening, but there was also a slight lilt to it that showed he wasn’t being serious.

Bajie hesitated for a moment before stammering out, “I’ll- I’ll throw my shoe at your head!”

“Bajie, stop” Sanzang reprimanded his 2nd disciple before turning to his eldest. “Wukong did you find anything?”

“Yeah, it’s a little small, but it should fit us.”

“How far?”

“Not far, 1 or 2 Li.”

With that, the group followed Wukong to the cave. Travel was considerably slower because of the rain. The path had been made slick and was deemed too dangerous for their master to ride on Long Ma.

“Are you sure I can’t just fly you to the cave?” Wukong asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” the Tang monk replied, sure of his decision.

“But, why not? You’re shivering!”

“I told you already. That would defeat the point of traveling this journey. We’re meant to walk the entirety of it, unless given help by the bodhisattva.”

“Oh, really?” the Monkey King asked, giving his signature smug look. “What about all the times I flew you out of a cave after getting kidnapped?” the monkey demon asked, teasing the monk.

“Those times were different, and you know it,” Sanzang exclaimed, playfully hitting the monkey. He blushed slightly remembering how closely he had been held in those moments. “I was in immediate danger then. This is just rain. I can handle rain.” Almost as soon as he finished the sentence, a violent shiver ripped through the monk.

“I- I’m- I’m fine.” Sanzang said, trying to brush off what just happened.

“Master, you’re clearly not fine. If we can’t fly to the cave, at least let me give you my tigerskin to keep you warm.”

He hesitated before relenting to accept the skirt.

When Sanzang wrapped the skin around his shoulders, he was surprised by how warm and soft it was. He had expected the thing to be tattered and matted from years of travel, but it somehow managed to stay as soft as the day Wukong took it from that tiger. What was even better was that it smelled like him. Under the smell of demon blood and rain, he could still identify the faint delightful aroma of peaches, flowers, and chestnuts.

The remainder of the walk to the nearby cave was surprisingly uneventful. No attempted demon kidnappings, no squabbles between the sworn brothers, and almost no complaints from Bajie. Sanzang had even managed to not slip or fall the entire time, though, that luck seemed to run out once the five neared the cave entrance.

The monk had stepped in a small patch of mud and slipped. Wukong hadn’t been able to catch him in time, so the Tang monk ended up cutting the bottom of his left palm on some sharp rocks and getting his cassock and part of the tiger skin covered in mud. Wukong was at his master’s side helping him up almost immediately.

“Are you okay?” the monkey demon asked worriedly.

“Mostly. Just a small cut on my hand,” Sanzang replied. He offered his hand to the monkey to show him the wound.

Wukong grabbed his master’s hand checking the injury. Sanzang was right, the wound was small. There wasn’t much blood coming out, but the mud on his hand meant it could get infected soon if they didn’t clean it off. That combined with his already low body temperature guaranteed Sanzang would get sick.

“Bajie, hand me the cleanest rag we have,” Wukong ordered. When the pig handed him a rag, it was already drenched.

“Most of our supplies got soaked up on the way here,” the younger explained.

Wukong began wiping away the mud on Sanzang’s hand while the others made their way inside the cave. He was careful to move the cloth in a way that wouldn’t get mud onto the open wound. The rain was washing away a majority of what little blood there was on the Tang monk’s hand, so Wukong didn’t need to worry much about that.

Meanwhile, Sanzang was internally freaking out. He didn’t understand why he was freaking out. This wasn’t the first time Wukong had held his hand. (Though he did freak out those other times too, but that’s beside the point.)

Something about the way the monkey gently gripped his hand and meticulously cleaned it made his heart flutter and his cheeks burn. And Wukong’s hand was so warm. Sanzang would have thought that all the rain would have lowered his body temperature even just a little, but he was still so warm. And the falling rain somehow made the moment feel a little romantic. (Sanzang was sure that was just his imagination.)

When Wukong finished cleaning Sanzang’s hand, he pulled the monk into the cave, startling him from his thoughts. Inside the cave, Bajie, Wujing, and Long Ma were sitting to one side, the former two leaning against the latter’s side. Long Ma, who had previously rested his head on the ground, lifted it when he saw his master and eldest brother enter the cave. The embarrassed look on master and eldest brother’s hand on master’s wrist made the dragon horse think something happened between the two. What, though, he didn’t care enough to try and guess.

The two sit across from the others, and Wukong holds onto Sanzang’s wrist.

With all of their supplies wet and the rain still going, there’s no way for the group to start a fire to warm themselves up or cook with, so it isn’t long before everyone decides to go to bed.

Sanzang tries to go to sleep, but his constant shivering prevents him from doing so. Wukong notices and gently taps his shoulder to get his attention.

“Yes, Wukong?” the monk whispers while sitting up to address his disciple.

When he’s looking at him, Wukong realizes he doesn’t actually know how to ask the question in his mind. He knows what he wants to do, but how does he communicate that in a way that won’t make the monk uncomfortable.

“Are you all right?” Sanzang asks when the monkey doesn’t say anything.

The Monkey King lets out a quiet chuckle at that. “I should be asking you that question,” he says, grinning. He sighs, hesitating for a moment, before asking “You’re still cold right?”

Sanzang nodded, not sure where this was going.

“Would it be okay for me to help you warm up?” Wukong asked, his tail wagging nervously.

“Sure.” The monk was incredibly cold and would do almost anything to warm up.

The monkey scooted closer to the Tang monk as quietly as he could. He wrapped his arms around the monk’s waste, pulling him toward his chest.

“Wukong, what are you doing?” Sanzang asked, failing to keep the panic in his voice hidden. His face, neck, and ears burned, and he was so glad the monkey couldn’t see his face, with it being buried in the monkey’s chest.

“I believe you humans call it cuddling,” the demon answered, sounding somewhat unsure of his answer. “I can stop if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“No, no. You’re fine,” Sanzang squeaked out. He knew he shouldn’t have said that, but Wukong was so warm and he was so cold. Besides, monkeys were physical creatures, so this probably didn’t mean anything to Wukong. (Why did that make his chest hurt?) He just let himself get pulled in closer, inhaling the familiar smell of peaches and flowers.


End file.
